


the haze has ascended

by spectrespecs



Series: all the pretty visitors [2]
Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Dom/sub Undertones, Established Keith/Shiro (Voltron), M/M, Threesome - M/M/M, sex! on a private jet
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-08-21
Updated: 2018-08-21
Packaged: 2019-06-30 19:49:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 7,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15758502
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/spectrespecs/pseuds/spectrespecs
Summary: Shiro, Keith, and a private jet. They also get acquainted with a flight attendant by the name of James Griffin.Keith misses Shiro finally realizing what is transpiring in front of him. Steel eyes harden momentarily and then melt back to bright and open as Shiro manages to lounge back into the seat even deeper, eyes going half-lidded with a smirk.“Oh, he’s always like this,” Keith turns to Shiro and his breath stops momentarily seeing the way Shiro’s gaze has darkened and locked on him. Once Shiro affirms Keith’s attention, he turns grey eyes to James.The flight attendant’s smile slips at Shiro’s face.





	the haze has ascended

**Author's Note:**

> this was just going to be Shiro and Keith on a private jet but uh life finds a way...
> 
> title from "From the Ritz to the Rubble" by Arctic Monkeys

Keith is damn good at his job. No one batted a lash of surprise when the CTO of the tech company he works for decided to step down from the position due to personal reasons (a mistress, messy divorce, and major gambling debt—or, that was the rumor at least) and named Keith the successor for the title.

The move felt inevitable as Keith glided through the ranks at the company faster than he passed by the endless sea of reasonably priced sedans on the highway every morning during his commute into the city, carefully threading through traffic while leaned low on his red and black BMW Roadster S 100 R motorcycle. A YSL leather jacket, worth more than a month’s salary of most people surrounding him on the road, hugged tight to his lean figure. The price had felt like little-missed change as Shiro let a feral smile lazily spread across his face when Keith tried it on for the first time in the store. Not looking away from his husband, Shiro handed a black credit card stamped with _TAKASHI SHIROGANE_ over to an employee while stating that Keith would be wearing the jacket out of the store.

Later that night, Keith had only worn the jacket as he pushed inside Shiro below him on their bed. Shiro clutched Keith’s arms, covered in the warm, soft leather, taking in the sight of Keith moving above him, the front of the jacket open with the buckles grazing Shiro’s stomach on every thrust, cold metal making him shiver. The jacket is well loved, and so is Keith.

But, yes, Keith is damn good at his job. That’s why when Keith walked into the office one day, wearing that very jacket with his red helmet tucked under an arm, the CEO of the company ushered him into the conference room they only used for making major deals, and an assistant took away the helmet and jacket. The CEO of a rival company that they are hoping to partner with for a project is displayed on the large screen on the wall of the room for a video call, listing endless compliments for the bright CTO she met at a party several months ago. The party had been held by the aviation company Shiro works for, and Keith would not lie that the invitation for the other CEO had possibly been made with ulterior motives.

That call ended with a plan for Keith to be flown across the country to visit the headquarters of the other company, full bill of the trip footed by them, including a private jet for the round trip.

This is how Keith and Shiro find themselves walking up a short flight of stairs into, surprisingly, their first time on a private jet. First class, always, but they’ve never indulged so far as to rent an entire plane for a trip. As appreciators for the finer things in life, they both felt a little bit giddy when getting to bypass airport security and go straight to boarding the plane, sharing smiles and small laughs as they laid eyes on the jet for the first time.

“Pleased to be flying you boys today,” the pilot of the plane offers warmly, extending a hand for Keith followed by Shiro to shake as they enter the aircraft. He introduces them to their co-pilot briefly as well before both nod their goodbyes as they go into the cockpit, leaving the door open behind them.

Keith lets out a low hum of appreciation as they turn into the main cabin. The sound makes the man trying to straighten out blankets on the leather seats turn around in surprise.

“Mr. and Mr. Shirogane!” he greets them with a bright smile and moves forward to remove luggage from their hands and lead them into the space. “I’ll be your flight attendant, James. Please take take a look at the cabin and take a seat. I’ll return after stowing your luggage.”

“Thank you, James,” Shiro replies while Keith can’t help to continue examining the other man as he places their bags in the storage area at the front of the plane. He was tall and thin with brown hair styled to have bangs cover part of his face, not successfully obscuring his sharp features. He wore fitted grey pants and a waistcoat with a crisp white shirt and dark orange tie. Keith didn’t think they would need a flight attendant, but he supposed it made sense.

The interior of the plane is all dark black wood and paneling with grey carpeting and white leather on the seats. On the wall opposite to the storage area, there is a sink with gleaming white marble counter space. Above the sink, rows of various glasses sit in a cabinet with a transparent front that allows the contents to be visible. It seems that the plane is equipped for any kind of beverage that passengers might want from martini to whiskey glasses and large goblets for wine. Four plush leather seats, two on each side of the aisle, face each other for the first two rows of seats, with ample space in between, and the seats on the left side have a small table between them. Along the wall next to each seat, cup holders and personal entertainment systems with phone chargers are placed in the paneling. Behind these front seats, there are another four seats arranged against the right side of the plane around a table, seeming to be for meetings or meals. On the left, parallel to the table for four, a dark wooden cabinet with black marble top offers additional storage space. A single white calla lily sits in a glass vase on top of the cabinet, and Keith has the urge to knock it over to see if it’s attached to stay in place during the flight. The last part of the plane looks like it could be blocked off to be made private, which greatly interests Keith as this was a six-hour flight. There were two couches on both sides of the plane with a television mounted on the back wall. Next to the television, there was a door that presumably led to the bathroom. It was a lot for just two people, but Keith was not complaining and knew that even if Shiro felt like it was too much, he wouldn’t voice the thought.

“You always spoil me,” Shiro laughs warmly into Keith’s ear, wrapping his arms around his husband from behind as they both stand on the threshold of the private back area of the plane.

“You mean a rival company CEO is spoiling you,” Keith responds, leaning back into Shiro, distractedly moving a hand to swat at Shiro’s face, making the taller man let out another laugh.

“May I take your coats,” James appears and asks, waiting for Keith to hand over the YSL jacket and for Shiro to take off his dark brown leather jacket he’s had for as long as Keith has known him. The flight attendant directs them to take their seats at the front as he and the pilots finish final checks in order to take off soon.

Keith gravitates towards the seats facing each other with the table in between with Shiro following him. Once buckled in, Shiro leans forward across the table and places his hands, palms up, on the top, eyes looking at Keith soft and affectionate. Keith reaches forward and puts his hands on top of Shiro’s, turning them so their hands face the same way and their fingers can intertwine, matching rings the only cold point on their warm hands.

“Have I told you I’m proud of you?” Shiro asks quietly, gently squeezing Keith’s hands. Shiro’s white hair always gleams in the most beautiful way to Keith, even if they’re in the shittiest lighting like on this plane. The light grey button-up with sleeves folded up and black pants he’s wearing make him look sleek, there’s no other way for Keith to describe it.

“Yes,” Keith rolls his eyes at his husband’s constant sappiness. “About a hundred times a day, I think.”

“Well, that’s simply not enough,” Shiro responds with a scoff and pulls the hand clutching his metal prosthetic to his lips for a kiss, making Keith blush and roll his eyes again.

“I apologize, but we do still need to go over safety information,” the flight attendant cuts in, making the couple turn their heads towards where they had not realized he had appeared next to them. Keith notes that he’s now added a name tag that says _JAMES G._ in gleaming gold letters as if they were going to forget their one and only attendant’s name.

“Of course,” Shiro let’s go of Keith’s hands and gestures at James, and Keith resents not being able to touch Shiro anymore.

The plane starts moving towards the runway as James goes over the basic information about the plane and its safety features while also telling them about the accommodations of the jet.

“Please let me know if you need _anything_ ,” he adds at the end and something about the way he says it and his eyes’ slide from Keith to Shiro before snapping back to Keith again makes the hair on the back of Keith’s neck raise slightly. “It’s my pleasure to help, I’m a call away from the interface of any screen as I sit up with the pilots in the cockpit.” He nods and walks off, and the sound of the cockpit door shutting drifts back to them.

“There’s something about him,” Keith says with narrowed eyes still trained on where James disappeared off to.

“What is it?” Shiro asks, leaning back in his seat.

“Something,” Keith pouts, turning back to Shiro and reaching out for the other man again, missing his touch. Shiro takes the offered hand without a thought, smile on his face.

Once in the air James makes an appearance again asking if they want any beverages to start the flight, and he comes back with glasses of Jameson Gold Reserve for the two of them. Instead of slinking back into the front of the plane, though, he continues to stand by them and start a conversation.

“So, is this a honeymoon?” James asks, his tone sounds genuinely curious.

“Everyday is a honeymoon with him,” Shiro winks and openly stares with tenderness towards Keith. James’s eyes remain on Keith’s face through the exchange.

Keith scoffs, the redness appearing across his cheeks betraying how he really feels about the comment. The fact that Shiro’s voice full of love in public and his voice full of love and something darker in private both still have the ability to make his face break out into a telltale bright reaction after all these years makes Keith fall a little bit more in love every single time.

“It’s a business trip,” Keith responds in the kindest way possible, meeting James’s eyes and staring him down and it looks like a small amount of blush creeps across the flight attendant’s face, but he doesn’t break the eye contact. _Huh_ thinks Keith.

Except Shiro seems oblivious to whatever is going on with James and keeps the conversation going, telling James all about how _successful_ and _talented_ Keith is, doing his usual doting husband spiel that’s typically reserved for the company parties he drags Keith to.

“Your biggest fan really makes you sound incredible,” James laughs, eyes flitting over to Shiro only for the briefest moment before taking up residence on Keith again.

Keith misses Shiro finally realizing what is transpiring in front of him. Steel eyes harden momentarily and then melt back to bright and open as Shiro manages to lounge back into the seat even deeper, eyes going half-lidded with a smirk.

“Oh, he’s always like this,” Keith turns to Shiro and his breath stops momentarily seeing the way Shiro’s gaze has darkened and locked on him. Once Shiro affirms Keith’s attention, he turns grey eyes to James.

The flight attendant’s smile slips at Shiro’s face.

“Well, I’ll be up front again. Let me know if you need me,” in a blink James’s face returns to customer-service friendly as he turns on his heels away from them.

Keith and Shiro are at far beyond the point in their relationship where they don’t need to exchange words to have a conversation. Keith raises the glass to his mouth and finishes off the whiskey, knowing Shiro watches his throat work as it swallows down the liquid burn. They might have been together for years but that doesn’t mean some sights have lost their beauty to them. Once he sets the glass back down, Keith unbuckles the seatbelt and raises himself out of the seat.

“I’m going to watch a movie or something,” Keith says nonchalantly, back turned to Shiro while stretching his arms up, soft cotton t-shirt lifting to show the thinnest sliver of skin. “You can join if you want.”

As he walks away from Shiro, Keith knows what game they’re about to play. Shiro will make no haste to down his drink, keeping a leisurely pace sipping the whiskey. It’s the same way he nurses top tier liquor when they decide to go to the invite-only clubs with thousand dollar table service minimums. All their friends sitting around the table, bottles set down in front of them and emptying steadily all while Shiro makes the conscious choice to sit on the opposite side from Keith. He’ll watch Keith eventually decide to get up with Lance or Allura, whichever half of the couple hits the point of drunkenness that makes them choose to move onto the dancefloor. Keith doesn’t like dancing. Keith likes Shiro; he likes Shiro wanting him. Sometimes Shiro will break and come find his husband after only ten minutes, and other times he won’t budge from the table until it’s time for them to leave the club. The latter are the nights that showcase Shiro’s strong patience as well as his general strength when he picks up Keith as soon as the door of their house closes behind them.

This is a new setting, same game.

Sliding the partition closed for the back section of the plane, Keith glances up at Shiro and feels a warmth spread across his stomach to see the man looking out the window. He didn’t even keep watching Keith. This is going to be a good gameday, Keith realizes.

Keith grabs the tablet that seems to serve as the controls for the television and slips his Chelsea boots off, lying down on the couch directly in front of the screen. After some scrolling he chooses an action movie that he’s seen before with the captions on, not wanting to leave where he’s settled down to find his headphones in his bag. The movie distracts Keith but also the early hour that they woke up starts to take its toll on him. He fights drooping eyelids as the sound of the plane lulls him and nods off a few times before giving in and falling asleep.

A brush of a hand across his forehead manages to rouse Keith as the scent of a familiar cologne also falls over him. Shiro looks down at him, a gentle expression on his face, the opposite of what Keith expected to see. The other man moves Keith’s sleep pliant body so Shiro can lie down on the couch with Keith sprawled across his chest.

“C’mon,” Shiro whispers into Keith’s hair, and he doesn’t question the warmth of his husband as he drifts back to sleep.

Keith wakes up slowly, noting the slow breathing under him, each exhale stirring some of his bangs. There is a blanket on his back that Keith doesn’t recall either Shiro or himself pulling on. He supposes it was James.

Opening his eyes, Keith takes in the sight of his husband. Shiro always looks peaceful when he sleeps, and the days he’s tense, a small wrinkle appears between his eyes during his slumber. That space is smooth right now. His head is tilted slightly towards the back of the couch, white hair falling across his left eye, mouth parted in the slightest amount. Keith can feel the cool metal of Shiro’s prosthetic has turned warm from its place on the small of Keith’s back where it seems to have crept under his shirt.

Gently raising his head and the hand it was resting on, Keith reaches out and runs his thumb across Shiro’s cheek lightly. No matter how many times and how many ways Keith wakes up to Shiro with him, each time is its own singular experience. Each one evokes a burning star in his heart for the other man.

Keith places a kiss on the part of Shiro’s chest under him and gets an idea. He knows that there was already a slow chase going on between them, but Keith also wants what he wants.

The movie has been turned off and Keith has no idea how long they’ve actually been flying. Neither of them had worn a watch today and reaching for the tablet control would require straining up past Shiro’s head, undoubtedly a move that would wake him up. The partition is closed, and Keith feels confident that this will be just fine.

Taking the hand that had just lovingly caressed Shiro’s face, Keith moves it to start undoing the buttons of his husband’s shirt. Once he’s revealed enough skin, Keith places a kiss on the exposed chest. Carefully, so carefully, Keith raises himself and keeps unbuttoning the shirt and moves downward, laying kisses down Shiro’s body. Shiro twitches when Keith places a knowing kiss on the sensitive area on the man right below his navel. Eventually, the whole shirt has been unbuttoned and untucked from Shiro’s pants.

Keith sits up on his knees, straddling Shiro’s body, and the man shows no sign of waking. His breath is still the steady inhale and exhale of sleep. Keith takes it as a positive sign to keep going and gingerly starts to undo Shiro’s belt, trying to prevent the buckle from making any sound as it comes apart and even though the noise of plane rushing through the sky would be sure to muffle it. He leans down, with eyes on Shiro’s face, and leaves a kiss on the area between the button and zip of the pants before also moving on to undo them.

Once the black briefs under are revealed, Keith also kisses there for good measure. The gentle way Keith has been making his way down Shiro’s body has not been enough to rouse Shiro in any way, but that’s about to change, Keith thinks, as he starts mouthing over Shiro’s length through the dark material. Keith feels Shiro start to harden as the cloth soaks with Keith’s spit and his breathing speeds up just the smallest amount. Keith silently prays that they don’t hit turbulence and the flight continues its smooth path, and he pulls Shiro out, lightly stroking with eyes locked on Shiro’s face. The other man’s breath hitches and his head turns, pushing back into the arm of the couch just a fraction before falling back again.

Keith holds the base and licks at the slit before swirling his tongue around the head with light pressure. After a few more strokes of his hand and licks up and down the length, Shiro is fully hard and lets out a moan with eyes fluttering. Keith takes the head into his mouth and sucks, receiving a cry from Shiro, who is definitely waking up now, so Keith takes as much of Shiro into his mouth as he can and hollows his cheeks to suck hard.

“Keith—” the cut off cry of his name turns into a moan as Shiro grasps the back of Keith’s head, and Keith hums around Shiro.

Pulling off, Keith looks up and sees partially opened eyes staring down at him, clouded.

“Hey, thanks for finally joining in,” Keith smiles giving a few lazy strokes.

 _“Baby_ ,” Shiro whines and grips Keith’s dark hair harder. It’s been a while since Keith has gotten a haircut, so Shiro has strands of hair he can wrap around his fingers to strengthen the hold.

A sleep vulnerable Shiro doesn’t take long, Keith knows, so he keeps things slow, taking his time with his husband as he rises to be fully awake. Shiro’s hand that is not wrapped in Keith’s hair makes its way up to his own hair and he pulls, resulting in a long moan of Keith’s name and an arch to his back. Keith takes Shiro down again until he hits Keith’s throat and looks up to see Shiro’s eyes fly open and then close again as he keens.

“P—plea—” Shiro’s too hazed by sleep and Keith’s mouth and struggles to form a coherent word but gives up and just makes pleased, overwhelmed sounds, some drowned out by the plane noise, as Keith keeps alternating between long licks and taking Shiro all the way down, tongue pressed firm.

Keith decides it’s been enough and Shiro’s getting close, so as he takes Shiro down to his throat again and hollows his mouth, he reaches a hand up to tweak at Shiro’s chest. It’s enough to push Shiro over the edge with a cry, Keith letting Shiro use the hand in his hair to move his head as wanted.

Pulling off and sitting back up on his knees, Keith watches Shiro’s chest move rapidly as he tries to steady his breathing, eyes opening slowly to stare at the ceiling of the jet. Keith can only hear the sound of the plane rushing through the air and waits to see how Shiro reacts.

Shiro raises his arms to push himself up and back so he’s sitting up with shoulders leaning on the arm of the couch, gaze focused on Keith as he shifts into the new position. His hair is sticking in various directions from where his own hand pulled it, which takes away a bit from the look of want on his face, shirt open to show a toned body.

“Come here,” Shiro’s voice is still rough, never back to full force from Keith’s hot mouth working him awake.

Keith shifts on his knees, slowly moving forwards up the couch to the other man. Shiro reaches out and grabs Keith’s thighs and pulls him in, closing their distance. Trailing his right hand from thigh to hip, up the side of Keith’s body all the way to settle around Keith’s neck, thumb brushing under his jaw and fingers scratching under long, dark hair. Shiro moves Keith’s head to look down at him. Breath catching upon meeting his husband’s eyes, Keith raises his hand to touch him, but Shiro quickly moves the hand not clutching Keith’s neck to grip Keith’s wrist.

“What do you think you’re doing?”

“Touching you.”

Shiro lets out a huff of a laugh at Keith’s reply and strains up while pulling Keith down into a kiss. They keep on each other's mouths, Shiro running his tongue along Keith’s teeth until the position for both of them becomes uncomfortable and the need to breathe arises. Then, Shiro raises up the hem of Keith’s shirt and together they divest him of the shirt and also pull off Shiro’s as well.

Pulled forward by Shiro’s hold on his hips, Keith lets his hands settle on Shiro’s shoulders as the other man lays a kiss on his stomach and starts working up Keith’s body. Keith lets out a sigh and moves his hands to thread through the white hair he loves so much and looks down at the man he loves as Shiro stares back up at him, eyes heated while sucking a mark onto the area next to Keith’s navel. Keith’s been hard since the first pleasing sound left Shiro’s mouth earlier, and Shiro’s close location to it presently reminds Keith how much he wants, _needs_ something from the other man.

As if he knows exactly what Keith’s thinking as he lets out a soft moan of Shiro’s name, Shiro unbuttons Keith’s pants and pulls them and the underwear down partway to uncover where Keith had been straining against his tight grey jeans. Shiro disregards where Keith is trying to direct his head and kisses the base before closing his eyes and resting his face there, essentially nuzzling Keith’s length. Keith tugs at Shiro’s hair and only receives a moan in response. Soft puffs of breath from Shiro’s nose and mouth brush ever so lightly against Keith, and it makes him shiver with need. Mercifully, Shiro pulls away and takes Keith in hand, a loose hold moving at the unhurried pace with which Shiro was drinking whiskey earlier.

It takes the discipline he’s learned from the man under him to keep Keith from begging so early, so he tries to steady himself by maintaining a pattern in running his fingers through white hair, pushing back Shiro’s bangs every third run-through. Shiro speeds up his hand while going back to only pressing his mouth and tongue against the base. When Keith feels like maybe they’re getting somewhere finally, small cries and gasps streaming from his mouth, Shiro removes his hand causing Keith to whine. The sound of disappointment is cut off when Shiro takes Keith down his mouth, tongue swirling and pushing flat before he lets Keith hit the back of his throat. It’s all it takes for Keith to come with a cry, falling over Shiro and needing to catch himself with a hand on the couch arm.

Shiro pulls off Keith and hits Keith’s ass lightly, making Keith laugh. For the first time, he also notices that Shiro’s Hermes bag is sitting on the opposite couch, and Keith knows exactly what resides inside a zippered pouch inside.

“We fucking in an airplane?” Keith asks, trying to sit back on Shiro’s lap, but Shiro puts a tight told on Keith’s thighs, preventing the movement.

“I don’t know,” Shiro drawls out. He’s leaned back against the couch and still maintains a look that borders on threatening and lust. “Do you deserve to be fucked?”

A slow smile spreads across Keith’s face. He feels relaxed and less on edge from just coming, and he knows Shiro is the same way. They have to be halfway, if not more, through their flight right now, and they’re sprawled against each other half-naked in a private jet. This is, frankly, living the dream to Keith. Getting fucked at this point is a bonus.

“I think I deserve it for waking you up so nicely,” Keith can hear how overly sweet his voice sounds, dripping with feigned innocence. “You would have slept through our first time in a private plane, Takashi.”

Shiro makes a sound of contemplation as he places his hands on Keith’s ass and squeezes, making Keith squirm.

“Okay, baby,” Shiro decides, “you know what to do.” He quirks his head to the side and nods in the direction of the bag set on the opposite couch.

Keith pulls the rest of his clothes off as he grabs what they need and Shiro gets out of his well-fitting dark Armani jeans, too. When Keith moves to crawl back into Shiro’s lap, he stops Keith with a hand out, metal splaying across Keith’s stomach, and Shiro gestures with his head to the side. Keith understands and goes to sit on his knees on the couch and bends over, arms and head resting on the couch arm. A satisfied sound comes from Shiro.

“You’re doing well so far,” Shiro murmurs while running a hand soothingly up and down Keith’s back and then he leans over Keith while the first finger finds its way inside Keith. The sound of the pop cap opening covered by the plane’s noise leaving Keith unsuspecting and letting out a gasp and a chuckle from Shiro.

Shiro takes his time with Keith, and Keith briefly has the thought that this is payback for how he did the same to Shiro earlier. The thought only lasts for a moment before Shiro starts to finally apply force behind his three fingers and knowingly having them hit where it makes Keith sigh and sob.

By the time Shiro finally slides inside, most of Keith’s balance relies on his hold on the arm of the couch. He’s gasping into the recycled air of the plane and feeling needy and on edge. Time has felt irrelevant since he woke up lying on Shiro, and now he can’t tell how long they’ve been working each other up; it feels like hours yet no time at all. Head ducked between his arms, resting on the couch, Keith only believes in the certainty of the drag of Shiro in and out of him. All the sounds he’s used to when they fuck are mostly drowned out by the constant hissing noise of the plane as it continues to hurtle forward to the business meeting that is deeply at the back of Keith’s mind right now. Keith strains to hear a few of Shiro’s groans. All he feels is the soft leather beneath him and Shiro inside him with the pressure of hands holding onto his hips, directing him back and forth.

There’s a knock on the partition and a voice saying their names, but both of them are too far gone to respond or move apart. The partition opens and James is standing there. Keith looks up from where he’d had his head bent down, resting on the arm of the couch, his eyes meeting the flight attendant. Shiro’s hand that’s splayed across Keith’s chest moves up and wraps around Keith’s throat and then pulls Keith back and up so Keith is up on his knees on the couch, body slightly bowed backward as his shoulders press up against Shiro’s chest. He’s completely on display in front of James, and James stands there, eyes wide as Shiro holds Keith’s hip with his left hand and gives a hard thrust. A cry tears from Keith’s mouth. The sounds appears to snap James, and he starts to mutter something and move backward, hand raising to close the partition.

“No,” Shiro’s voice is firm, authoritative, and it makes Keith twitch. It’s the tone that makes Keith do anything that’s asked of him, and it seems to have the same effect on the flight attendant who freezes.

“Come in and close it,” Shiro commands, and James complies.

Keith just wants Shiro to keep moving inside him and doesn’t know what his husband is thinking right now, but he trusts him. He remembers the shared looks over the whiskey earlier and wonders if this is what Shiro wanted to have happen. His husband does always have good ideas. Even though there’s someone they barely know watching them fuck, Keith doesn’t care. He keeps hazy eyes on James as Shiro slows down his movements, lazily moving in and out Keith with a firm grasp on Keith’s throat. The hold allows Keith to breathe normally, but the slight clench in Shiro’s fingers lets Keith know that it could get tighter at any moment.

“You were looking earlier,” Shiro’s voice is dark and low, it barely sounds above the noise of the plane. James must be struggling to hear it. “Weren’t you?” Shiro adds, louder and firmer.

James keeps his eyes on Keith, either out of fear at looking at Shiro or because he cannot tear away from the sight of how hard Keith is and how his body looks pulled back onto Shiro. Keith moves his right hand into Shiro’s hair behind him and the left to cover Shiro’s hand on his hip.

“He asked you a question,” Keith rasps out, and he feels Shiro’s chest rumble slightly from a laugh. Shiro keeps slowly fucking him, and it’s taking everything for Keith to not scream out at Shiro to give him _more._

“Y—yes,” James stammers out.

“Yes, what?” Shiro snaps back and stops thrusting into Keith, making him whine in disappointment. Shiro squeezes slightly at his neck as a means of warning.

“Yes, sir,” James heaves out.

“Good, you can keep looking,” Keith can hear the smile that’s undoubtedly on Shiro’s face right now. It’s a dangerous look where the look of foreboding and want in his eyes doesn’t match his lips.

Shiro uses his grip on Keith’s throat to pull his head back so they can crash into a kiss, keeping a distance between them that makes certain James sees the slick and dirty slide of Shiro’s tongue into Keith’s mouth, both of them moaning as Shiro gives a shallow thrust. Their mouths make a wet pop as they break apart, but Shiro keeps Keith’s head turned towards him. Keith looks at Shiro, and there’s an expression on his face that conveys a moment of concern. Keith just smiles at Shiro and knows the look is more loving than what would befit the current situation. It makes his husband smile in response and give him a quick kiss before dropping his face back to stern and cold, breaking them out of their moment.

James is looking at the floor now, most likely feeling out of place at the display of genuine affection that had created a break in the atmosphere of this small back room of a private jet.

“James,” Shiro makes the name sound like an order, and the flight attendant’s bangs flip as he snaps his head back up. “Good boy,” Shiro adds and resumes fucking Keith at a slow pace.

Keith watches James’s eyes move up and down Keith’s body, never moving over to Shiro, and he dazedly wonders if James is truly afraid of Shiro. But if he was afraid of Shiro, he would have never looked in the first place when putting the whiskey down in front of them and flashing a smile while asking about their lives. Keith can’t tell if there’s a roaring in his ears or of it’s just the usual sound of the plane, but the soft sounds Shiro makes as he speeds up his thrusts makes Keith groan in appreciation.

“James, come here,” Shiro’s voice manages to remain steady. Once the flight attendant moves closer to stand next to where Shiro and Keith are on the couch, Shiro speaks again and asks the other man to look at him.

Shiro has slowed down again, and Keith feels like he’s on fire. The constant change of pace as he gets worked up and then slowly brought back down has him twisting in Shiro’s grasp, and he just tightens the grip on Keith’s throat as a reprimand.

“Look at me,” Shiro asks, voice going gentle. James’s eyes snap to Shiro, and Keith knows that the softness that leaked into his husband’s voice is mirrored in his eyes right now. “Do what I say, and you can touch. Understood?”

James nods slowly before realizing his mistake and responding with a _yes sir_ which earns another _good boy_ from Shiro. Keith waits to see what Shiro will tell the other man to do, but instead, Shiro just starts talking as he keeps slowly working in Keith.

“Doesn’t Keith look good, James? He feels even better,” Shiro emphasizes the point with a rough thrust hitting Keith in the right spot, the surprise almost making him scream. “He sounds so good, too, don’t you baby boy?” Shiro pulls Keith’s head back again for a kiss.

Keith sees that James sways and leans closer to the couple.

“Keith, do you want James to kiss you?” Shiro asks softly into his ear, placing a brushed kiss at the damp hair curling there. Keith nods and gasps out a _yes._ “James, do what Keith says. Kiss him.”

James closes the distance left between them and places one knee on the couch to turn and properly face Keith and Shiro. Hesitantly, he raises his right hand but stops it midair, glancing between the couple to see if touching is permitted.

“You can touch,” Keith gasps out, knowing Shiro was leaving that decision up to him.

James provides another _yes, sir,_ and Keith likes that the other man has learned so quickly. How fast he came to follow Shiro and his authority. Shiro relaxes his hold on Keith’s throat to allow him to move forward a fraction.

Placing a hand on Keith’s shoulder, James closes the distance and barely presses his lips over Keith’s. It’s brief and chaste and not what Keith wants right now. He lets out a growl and strains against Shiro’s hand to lean into James for what he wants. Finally, finally, James presses into Keith’s mouth, tongue running along Keith’s bottom lip before slipping inside.

Shiro lowly whispers into Keith’s ear about how good he looks, how good he feels, how good he’s doing. Keith needs someone to touch him, he’s so hard, but he knows Shiro won’t do it and James should know better than to try before Shiro allows it. James keeps kissing Keith as he tries to struggle to plead with someone, either of them, to just put a hand on him and let him come, but it’s as if James already knows that it’s too soon for that to be allowed even though it’s felt like an eternity to Keith.

“Keith, baby, what are you trying to say?” Shiro asks and James backs away from Keith.

“I need…” Keith says, eyes closing and throat feeling rough.

“Do you need or want?” Shiro’s voice is sharp, and James is still close enough that Keith vaguely feels the flight attendant’s body going rigid from the tone.

“Want you, want you, want you,” Keith chants in response and arches back onto Shiro, making his husband let out another of his laughs that sends a chill down his spine in the best way.

“You have to do something for me first, can you do it?” even though Keith doesn’t know what it is, he nods as best he can in Shiro’s grasp.

“Make James come,” the command is short and to the point. James gasps.

Keith doesn’t wait, just moves his hands quickly to James’s pants to pull him out as quickly as possible. His well-fitting pants clearly show how affected he’s been by everything going on, and Keith hopes he’ll be easy. The fact that Shiro’s still holding him up and still inside Keith is driving him to near tears at this point.

Once Keith gets James free, he wants to make this fast and hard, but he knows that Shiro will tut at him for being more concerned with his own pleasure over their company, so he starts as slow as he feels is acceptable for how frenzied he feels. Keith levels his gaze on James’s face, eyes closed and face red. It clashes horribly with the tie, the brief thought passes by Keith, but James is still striking, with all prominent features and sweeping brown hair. Shiro tells James to look at him, and his eyes slowly open to a bit more than half-lidded, moving from Keith to Shiro’s face.

“You look good,” Shiro notes. They’ve both always had a similar eye for beautiful things.

“Thanks,” James gasps and then moans as Keith’s grip becomes tighter and ends a stroke with a sharp twist.

“You feeling good?” Shiro asks, and James simply nods as a form of an answer before once again snapping to his senses for a hurried _yes, sir._ Shiro turns his head into Keith’s neck, nose brushing lightly at the hairline behind Keith’s ear. Another tender touch out of place in what they’re doing, but also another sign of the love and trust between the couple.

“Can I kiss him again?” James asks timidly. Keith’s kept his eyes on his own hand working James, but now he dazedly sweeps his gaze up to the man’s face. James’s eyes are not on Keith but still on Shiro, and Keith supposes that Shiro may still be tucked into Keith’s neck but his eyes must be turned to James.

“You have to ask Keith,” Shiro replies, placing a kiss in Keith’s hair.

Keith gives an affirmative response, and James wastes no time to close the space again to capture Keith’s mouth, licking into him and moaning quietly, barely audible over the plane. At his neck. Shiro has started to bite a mark into Keith’s pale skin. It’s too much. He feels too much, and now Keith just wants to be selfish. So, he speeds up his hand and starts moaning into James’s mouth. It takes a few more strokes and James comes, spilling onto Keith’s hand and hip, voice cracking on a cry of Keith’s name into his mouth, and Shiro gives Keith a hard thrust. Shiro’s movement pushes Keith back onto James’s mouth, and they messily resume kissing as James comes back down.

“Do you think it’s time we let Keith come, James?” Shiro hums, resuming the shallow and short thrusts that do nothing for Keith except make him writhe in his husband’s arms and curse the fact Shiro has this much fucking discipline.

“Yes,” James replies, and his eyes are once again on Shiro, who is now directly looking at him. There’s a small smirk on James’s face, and if Keith could turn to look at Shiro, he’s sure that the look is mirrored there. The thought that both of them are darkly looking at each other while focus turns to getting him off makes Keith drip even more than he has. He feels Shiro nod, and then James’s hand is on Keith right as Shiro’s thrusts speed up to a pace that actually nears what Keith has been wanting this whole time. Shiro is rough and hard, letting the hand that’s been so attached to Keith’s neck go down to Keith’s hip so both are wrapped in Shiro’s hold. James’s hand not working Keith then moves to settle across Keith’s chest, fingers barely rubbing against him, making Keith arch and cry out. Keith’s struggling to stay upright and only James’s hand on his chest keeps him from folding in on himself.

“I think he deserves to come,” Shiro grits out, and through his haze, Keith feels satisfied that Shiro also seems to be slipping now, firm exterior cracking as Keith squeezes around him to try and get them to both get to where they are now hurtling towards.

“Yes, sir,” James responds, looking at Shiro briefly before going back to Keith and increasing his pace on Keith, friction feeling so good to Keith as his own wetness is used to make James’s hand glide beautifully up and down his length. Behind him, Shiro is hitting right where he needs to over and over, and Keith feels tears spilling down his face as he’s overwhelmed and finally there, _there._

Keith comes with a yell of nothing in particular, just a raw sound ripped from him as his eyes squeeze close and he arches back onto Shiro, who’s whispering _I got you_ as he also comes inside Keith. The feeling of Shiro coming inside him makes Keith let out a small cry of his name, and he registers that James is also still trying to pull anything he can from Keith. Once Keith reaches the point of everything being too much, he sags forward, and James is quick to move to catch Keith by the shoulders as Shiro wraps an arm around Keith’s abdomen.

Together the two men slowly lower Keith to lie down on the couch. A hand, slightly warm metal, runs through Keith’s sweat-damp hair and he hears Shiro’s low murmur but doesn’t know what he’s saying. Opening his eyes, Keith sees James nod at Shiro and start to move away, but Keith, weak as he feels, quickly raises his hand to grab James’s wrist.

“Thank you,” Keith slurs out with a small smile, and James nods at Keith and smiles back. It’s a good smile, Keith thinks, before closing his eyes and drifting off. At some point, a cool cloth is dragged across his body and a water bottle placed at his lips, and he drinks quickly, before settling back against the couch again and letting sleep take him.

When Keith wakes later, it’s to Shiro gently saying his name and running a hand through his hair. Keith blinks slowly and looks up at his husband. The harsh plane light highlights the white hair, and it appears that Shiro has redressed. It takes a moment for Keith to register that he also looks to be back in his clothes, and he’s a bit embarrassed that he was that wrecked that he couldn’t even wake up when jostled to be dressed.

“How are you feeling?” Shiro asks, crouching down next to the couch.

“Good,” Keith replies simply, raising his arms to stretch and feeling the good burn in all the right places.

Shiro takes Keith’s hand to pull him up and out of the back area, and there’s a full meal placed on the table in the main cabin. James is standing there, also put back together with each crease in his clothes looking crisp. He gestures to the food without a word, just a smile, and walks away back to the front of the plane. Keith calls out to the flight attendant to stay and Shiro repeats the request.

“I need to prepare for landing,” James shakes his head. “You were both... _asleep_ for an awfully long time. I just had time to get you served here before we need to get ready for the descent.”

“That’s a shame,” Shiro responds, and James laughs.

“It’s okay,” James shrugs. “Maybe next time. I believe I’m scheduled for your return flight.”

Keith and Shiro automatically turn to look at each other and grin, then look back at James.

“Excellent,” they say in unison.

**Author's Note:**

> just yell at me on [tumblr](http://exitlude.tumblr.com/)


End file.
